


taking on the wind because we never learn

by annemari



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Huddling For Warmth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:22:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annemari/pseuds/annemari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Seriously," Scott says. "Next time, please let's not piss off a weather god."</p>
            </blockquote>





	taking on the wind because we never learn

**Author's Note:**

> Set after season 3. Written for the "cuddling for warmth" HC bingo square. Thank you so much to **eloiserummaging** for being a great beta! Title from Mikky Ekko's "Kids".

"You know, there's a lesson here," Scott says.

"Oh my god, shut up," says Stiles.

Scott frowns. "There is, though."

"Seriously," Stiles says. "Shut up. You have to save your strength, okay? No talking."

Scott sighs and closes his eyes. He's cold. He's hurt, his stomach hurts, he's not healing, and it's so cold. He didn't know he could even get this cold anymore.

He knows Stiles is cold as well, but at least Stiles has a scarf and a warm coat. Scott lost his somewhere along the way. His mom is gonna kill him.

"Scott," Stiles says. "Hey, Scott, stay with me."

"Sure," Scott promises easily. Of course he'll stay with Stiles.

"I mean stay _awake_ ," Stiles says, shaking him. Scott gasps at the sharp pain in his stomach, and opens his eyes. Stiles doesn't even look sorry.

"You suck," Scott whispers.

"Yeah," Stiles agrees. "Tell me what the lesson is, Scott."

Scott blinks. Oh, right. That.

"Scott?"

"If someone says they're a weather god, you shouldn't laugh at them," Scott says. "Even a little."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Next time I'll remember."

"Good," Scott says. "I'm gonna sleep, okay?"

"Wait, Scott," Stiles says. Scott thinks Stiles might shake him again, but he's cold and tired and he can't really tell. "Scott, come on. Scott!"

"Five minutes," Scott tries to say. He's not sure if he manages, but he tries, before everything gets dark.

~

Scott wakes to cold hands on his stomach. He jerks and tries to pull away, but all he manages is hitting the back of his head against a wall. Dammit.

"Hey," Stiles says. His voice sounds kind of rough. "Easy."

Scott breathes out and settles back. Stiles's hands are on his stomach, at the spot where the beast managed to get its claws in. The wound is gone now. Scott takes deep breaths and doesn't feel more than a twinge.

"You okay?" Stiles asks. 

He's pressed up next to Scott's left side, arms wrapped around his waist and hands slipped under his shirt. His coat is thrown over both of them, and Scott feels Stiles's scratchy scarf around his neck.

"Yeah," Scott says. "You?"

"Good," Stiles says. "Totally good." His voice is muffled against Scott's neck. Scott's pretty sure this is Stiles's idea of sharing body heat.

Scott focuses, listening to Stiles's heartbeat. It's good, still strong. Neither of them are really emitting heat, but it's warm, a lot warmer than it felt before he fell asleep.

He listens further, leaving the sound of the strong wind as background and checking for footsteps in the distance. There are some rabbits, and a deer somewhere close by, but that's it.

It's still dark, though, and the only way Scott knows it's Stiles pressed up next to him is that he'd know Stiles anywhere.

"Stiles," Scott says. "Where exactly are we?"

"Cave," Stiles says, pulling back a little. Scott covers Stiles's hands with his, to keep him close. "You don't remember?"

Scott remembers it a little. When he concentrates the details become clearer. The beast charging at them, Stiles yelling something, Scott not being able to see as well as he should have because of the snowstorm. Damn snowstorm.

"Seriously," Scott says. "Next time, please let's not piss off a weather god."

"I know, I know," Stiles says. He shifts closer again, leaning his chin on Scott's shoulder. "So you don't remember the cave?"

"I remember," Scott says. He got hurt, and the beast took off, leaving him for dead. He was bleeding, and Stiles found a cave and dragged him here. There was nothing but white around them, and now they were enclosed in darkness. It was strange how the dark was more comforting. That had never been Scott's experience before. But everything was different after the sacrifices.

"Good," Stiles says lightly. "No memory loss, then. Ergo no brain damage."

Scott hums. "You're warm. Warmer than me."

Stiles barks out a sudden laugh, right next to Scott's ear. "Dude, I'm really not. Once you healed your body temperature shot way up. I think my feet are slowly starting to freeze."

Scott frowns. They'll have to do something about that. But, still— "I was really cold before, dude," he says. "You warmed me up so I could heal."

Stiles doesn't answer, but he squeezes Scott tighter.

"We should go and try to find the way back," Scott says after a while.

"Yeah, no," Stiles says immediately. "No way, I'm not going back out there."

Scott sighs and sits forward, preparing to get up. Stiles clings to him, not letting him move. Scott could throw him off, obviously, but they both know he won't. Never.

"Stiles, come on," Scott says. "We have to get back."

"What's so bad about this?" Stiles asks. "Comfy little cave. All nice and protected from the _freak snowstorm_."

"We can't just stay here."

"Well we can't go," Stiles says. "You don't even have a coat, you'll freeze."

"I'm a werewolf," Scott says.

"You'll freeze. _I'll_ freeze, do you think this coat is enough for a storm like that? It's barely keeping us warm. And home is who knows where. Far away. That's where."

Scott sighs and leans back against Stiles. He's still a bit tired, from the fight and the healing, and with it so dark and Stiles pressed up against his side it feels like they're in Scott's bed, clinging together after a hard day of fighting monsters. Except for the cold and all, of course.

"So what do we do?" he asks. "Wait for it to calm down?"

"Yes," Stiles says. "That is exactly my plan." He shuffles even closer to Scott, and moves his hands on Scott's stomach, rubbing his belly. Scott can feel his pulse start to slow. Not by a lot, but just enough that he knows Stiles is getting colder.

Scott turns, dislodging Stiles's arms and making the coat fall off. Stiles lets out an indignant yelp, but Scott's already reaching for him. "Come on, you're getting cold." 

"I _know_ I'm getting cold," Stiles says. "What the hell are you doing?"

Scott rolls his eyes. He takes the coat and drapes it over his own shoulders, before pulling Stiles against him, Stiles's back to Scott's chest. Stiles is not that much smaller than him, not really smaller at all, but Scott's warmer and he can make sure Stiles doesn't freeze.

Stiles settles in his lap, huffy at first, but then he sighs and leans back, rests his head on Scott's shoulder.

"We can switch like this until morning," Scott says. "If we have to. But I'm pretty warm."

"Yeah, you are," Stiles says softly, and something curls in Scott's belly. Now's _really_ not the time, though.

Still. He feels like he should—check.

"Hey, Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this weird?"

"No," Stiles says. "What? The cuddling?"

"Yeah."

"No," Stiles says. "Obviously? Do you think it's weird?"

"No," Scott says. "No, I was just checking."

"Okay," Stiles says. "No weirdness then."

Scott laughs. "Yeah, it's not like this is the first time we've cuddled."

"Not even the first time we've cuddled while in mortal peril," Stiles says.

"We're not in mortal peril."

"Cuddling," Stiles says. "Cuddles. Cuddles, cuddles. It stopped sounding like a word."

Scott rolls his eyes and holds Stiles tight, presses his nose against the skin on the back of Stiles's neck.

Stiles shudders. He smells good. Scott takes in a deep breath.

"Scott, man," Stiles says, voice strained. "Dude, now is not the time."

"Then why are you turned on?"

Stiles doesn't answer but Scott can hear him mumble something about unfair werewolf senses. Scott laughs against his neck and Stiles shivers again.

"Fuck you," Stiles says weakly. "Fuck you, that's so unfair."

"I didn't do anything!"

Stiles twists around—Scott keeps a strong grip on him still, as well as he can—and Scott hears his intake of breath that signals he's preparing for a slightly longer speech.

"Wait," Scott says. "Listen."

Stiles falls quiet immediately, going tense on Scott's arms. He manages a while before he asks, in a whisper, "What is it?"

"I don't know," Scott says. "Sounds like a bear."

"A b—can you fight a bear?"

"I don't know." The bear isn't near the cave yet; he might not have to.

"But Beacon Hills doesn't have bears," Stiles says. "Just like it doesn't have wolves, just werewolves. Is it a werebear?"

"Regular, I think. Maybe it came following the cold?"

"In one day? Oh no. It's a magic bear. And it will probably kill us."

Scott squeezes Stiles again. "It won't kill us. I think it's going away, stay quiet."

"Why isn't it coming in? Bears like caves. Especially during _fucking winter_."

Scott shushes Stiles again, and they wait in silence again. The bear does move after a while, leaving pretty quickly. Scott wonders if it ran into a smell it didn't like.

"Bears are _asleep_ during winter," Stiles whispers. "This is such bullshit."

"I know," Scott says. "It just left, though."

Stiles breathes out at that, deflating against Scott's chest. "I really didn't want to get eaten by a bear."

"It wasn't gonna eat you," Scott promises.

Stiles shakes his head. "This is ridiculous. My nose is cold."

Scott covers Stiles's nose with his hand.

"Now I can't breathe."

"Wrap the scarf around your face then."

"Where _is_ the scarf?"

Scott pauses. "Uh."

It takes them a couple of minutes to locate the scarf on the ground. Well, it takes two minutes for both of them to remember that Scott can see in the dark. Scott blames the energy he needed for healing for forgetting that basic fact that's usually just instinct. Either that, or having Stiles pressed up all close. That might have also had something to do with it.

In any case, by that time Stiles is shivering hard, and Scott is convinced they have to try to find a way home. Home, where it's nice and warm and where there's hot chocolate.

"We are not going out into the storm," Stiles says. He's rubbing his hands together. Scott steps forward to help him warm them. "Besides, that thing could still be out there."

"Are you absolutely sure your phone is dead?" Scott asks.

"Yes," Stiles says, sounding petulant. "These fancy new things, man, they still can't really survive _water_."

"Snow," Scott says.

"Whatever. It's gone, dude."

Scott sighs and lifts Stiles's hands up to blow warm air on them. He switches to night vision just in time to see Stiles raise his eyebrows. And blush. Possibly blush.

"Well, we have to get out of here," Scott says. "We'll freeze. You'll freeze."

"I'll freeze out there. Or get eaten by a bear."

"You won't."

"I definitely will."

"Maybe I could carry you back home."

"Do you even know what way home is?"

Scott turns his head, looking at the cave entrance. He concentrates, trying to smell or hear something, anything but the snow and the storm. There are other animals, stuck in the storm, and—something familiar not that far. Maybe a couple of miles away. Less than five. Something not as familiar as Stiles, but still known.

"Someone's out there."

"Like the monster?" Stiles asks. "Oh Jesus."

"No," Scott says, sighing. "Not the monster. Someone's looking for us. And I think home is that way."

"Okay," Stiles says. "But that doesn't change the fact that there is still a fricking snowstorm out there."

"Seriously, I can try to carry you."

"You're not gonna carry me," Stiles says. "You need strength just not to freeze."

"It's not _that_ cold," Scott says. The wind, yeah, the wind is bad, and it's ridiculously cold for California, but he's—well, he's not that cold.

Stiles laughs. "Oh, it's not that cold, he says. Okay, yeah, for you, but I am fucking freezi—"

Scott interrupts him with a kiss. He wraps his arms around Stiles's waist and pulls him closer. He wishes he could unzip Stiles's coat and properly get his hands on Stiles, but Stiles might really get cold then.

Stiles buries his fingers in Scott's hair and bites at his lip, pulling back for a second, only to go back to kissing Scott again.

When he pulls back the second time he has to fight to catch his breath. Scott grins.

"Seriously," Stiles says. "So unfair."

"Says you."

"I do say."

Scott shakes his head, smiling. "I mean. You. You don't think it's unfair to me, too?"

"I feel like I've lost track of what we're talking about."

Scott rolls his eyes. "Fine." He'll bring it up later. How it's certainly very unfair how Stiles is just so—Stiles.

"No, but like. You couldn't have waited until we weren't in mortal peril?"

"We're not in mortal peril."

"My point stands."

"You don't have a point," Scott says. "You could have waited till I wasn't wounded and bleeding."

Stiles huffs, looking away. There's something more serious about his posture. Scott pulls him closer.

"Hey," Scott says. "Still here."

"I know," Stiles says. "Me too, you know?"

"Yeah," Scott says, and kisses Stiles again.

That kiss, the other kiss, had been a week ago, when the beast first appeared and no one knew how the claws would affect werewolves yet. Scott had gotten hurt, passed out, and woken up to Stiles kissing him. It had been nice. Really nice.

The point was that Scott barely remembers that kiss. So he's determined to commit this one to memory.

Stiles makes a low noise and grabs Scott's face, holding him close. Scott isn't planning on leaving.

Stiles's hands are cold against Scott's cheeks, but inside Scott is so warm. Always with Stiles. Stiles, who helps keep the darkness away, who always has.

Scott would hit both of them over the head for waiting this long.

"Jesus fuck," Stiles says, pulling back and panting.

"You warm now?"

Stiles laughs and Scott grins, pulling him tight against his body. Stiles's heart is beating fast.

"You're such a dick," Stiles says.

"Why?" Scott asks.

Stiles sighs. "Because I really want to suck your dick now."

Scott blinks. "Oh. Um. Later?"

"Yeah," Stiles says. "Okay, yeah."

Scott smiles. "Let's go."

"What, no. It's _cold_. Like, kissing is fucking great, I'm not gonna argue with that, but it won't keep us from freezing."

Scott nods. "Yeah, it probably won't. But Allison and Lydia are nearby. With a car."

Stiles doesn't say anything.

"What?" Scott asks. "I only sensed them now! I was. Uh. Distracted earlier."

"Oh my god," Stiles says. "Fine. Okay. Jesus Christ. Where are they?"

"Little bit to the east," Scott says. "Come on."

He throws his arm over Stiles's shoulder and tugs him along and out of the cave.

~

Allison and Lydia have somehow found a big SUV with chains on the tires to handle the storm.

"Where on earth did you get this?" Stiles asks. He's leaning against Scott in the backseat, shivering lightly as his body warms up. Scott is rubbing his shoulders to help.

"Lydia," Allison says.

Lydia throws them a sly smile from the passenger seat. Her fluffy hat—Allison's, Scott thinks—doesn't break the image.

"How did you find us?" Scott asks.

"We thought we were following the beast," Allison says. She's driving through the storm like she does this all the time. "But it was a bear instead."

"How are there _bears_ in Beacon Hills?" Stiles asks.

Allison takes a particularly sharp curve, and shrugs. "We don't know. But it turned around at some point and ran in the other direction. We thought it had smelled the beast. But I guess it was actually you."

"You mean Scott," Stiles says. "I showered yesterday. I don't smell that bad yet." He's babbling, just a bit. Scott pulls him closer. It slows Stiles's heartbeat.

"So you didn't find the beast?" Scott asks.

"Oh, no, we did," Allison says. "We killed it."

Scott pauses. "Wow. Good work."

"Thanks," Lydia says with a smile. "Allison did most of the work, obviously, but I think I provided some moral support."

"I couldn't have done it without you," Allison says seriously, and Lydia's smile turns soft.

Scott leans back against the seat, relieved. He seriously has the best pack ever. The best friends.

"Are we gonna drop both of you off at Scott's?" Allison asks.

"Yeah," Scott says. "I think so."

"Yeah," Stiles says. He sounds sleepy.

Scott squeezes his shoulder and rests his head against Stiles's.

~

Stiles does blow Scott.

They fall asleep as soon as they get home, curled up in bed together, safe while the storm keeps raging.

The next morning Scott wakes up to Stiles kissing his neck. He blinks his eyes open slowly, then wraps his arms around Stiles, pulling him on top of him.

They don't need to talk about it. They know they're both on the same page. Scott can see it in Stiles's eyes, hear it in his heartbeat.

Stiles is quiet and attentive and so not what Scott assumed he'd be in bed. They're both older now, though. Grown up.

Things change, but the smile Scott knows as his—Stiles's Scott smile—hasn't changed.

The blowjob is a nice change.

Stiles goes down easily, taking Scott in his mouth, and goes at it, if not with much expertise then with enthusiasm. Scott comes embarrassingly fast, but Stiles comes from just a quick squeeze of Scott's hand after, so they're even.

Stiles falls asleep again after that. Scott pulls the covers over them and cuddles close to Stiles, keeping them both warm.


End file.
